


Red

by Phantom_Ice



Series: Phantom's Fire and Ice [10]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Borderline Sexual Assault, Dismissal of Human Death, Disregard for Human Remains, Disturbing Ending, Freakshow's Staff, Gen, Horror, Mind Control, Mindfuck, Murder, Torture, Unresolved Ending, improper disposal of human remains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:03:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Ice/pseuds/Phantom_Ice
Summary: Red. The Red is everywhere and everything. It is the coating over his skin and the thoughts in his mind and the foil that wraps around his conscience. Red. Nothing, not happiness and not love, is more important than the Red





	Red

Red.

All he could see was red. It covered him, coated him, stuck to him. It dripped all over his gloved hands, squishing between his fingers as he wiggled them experimentally. The red was also in his eyes, it covered them in a tinted film. It seeped into his mind, it was all he could think about.

He stood up, looking around him without a single expression on his face. The red was forming puddles and mixing with itself. No inch of the floor he floated over had been spared. He lowered himself down a bit and set an experimental foot into one of the pools.

_Squelch_

Huh. Well, that was interesting. He looked back up, and then a little farther up. Standing on a slightly elevated platform was the important thing. He floated over to it and dropped to his knees in front of the platform, the red made another odd wet sound.

"Ummph! Mmmph! Phammme!"

His eyes flickered over the creator of the noises. They would likely be words if it weren't for the gag. He looked away.

"You do well," a different person commended him. He was immediately hooked and thought no longer abut the person in the gag.

"Thank you,"

His red world went white for just a moment. When it returned, he was lying in the red, some found its way into his mouth. He swallowed. His temple ached. He had been hit.

"Thank you,  _what_!?" The voice demanded.

"Master!" He was quick to answer, "thank you, Master,"

'Master' waved his red staff and smiled at the ghost bowing before him.

"Tell me, are you loyal to me?"

"Of course, Master,"

"Hmm, so you say,"

"Tell me, are you particularly... violent?"

"No, Master,"

"As I thought... See that girl over there?"

Master pointed, and the ghost turned his head to follow.

He was back on the gagged person. A girl. A very pretty girl with short black-as-night hair, a petite figure and big violet eyes. Looking at her made him happy. Seeing the way her eyes were red and irritated and tears flowed down her cheeks and over her form made him sad. She seemed to be screaming something at him.

"Kill her. Slowly, painfully, torturously. Terrify her," the order came, and suddenly all those feelings meant nothing.

"Yes, Master,"

He approached her, floating in front of the chair she was chained to. Her watery eyes widened and she tried, fruitlessly, to draw back.

He looked her over once again, stopping at parts he found rather pleasing. He could feel her fear. It was not enough for Master, not yet.

He moved the chains so that, rather than tie her by her midsection, it was only by her arms and legs. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. She was shaking. He could see his red eyes reflected in her pupils.

He slipped his hand under her shirt. He got the feeling it was something he had wanted to do before. He acted on it. She tried to scream.

She was crying.

He cocked his head. This should bother him.

It didn't.

Could he just kill her now?

He looked back at his Master. His Master was looking at the girl with dangerous eyes, licking his lips. The ghost wanted to throw up.

He turned his attention back to the girl. He unchained her completely and forced her down, so she was lying in the red. She was squirming and struggling to get off of it, seemingly horrified by the redness that seeped into her clothing, skin, and hair. He didn't let her move, though. Her hands were still chained behind her back. He sat on her and let his hand wander farther. She froze. He could feel the fear invading every part of her. He soaked it up, the emotion powering his ectoplasm and settling pleasingly in his stomach. 

He used a hand to roughly grab onto her hair. That hand slowly inched its way down to her gag. He looked up to his Master, who nodded. He took off the gag.

"Please. Please no. Please stop. I know you're in there, fight it. Please." Ironically enough, her voice held no fight. Only begging.

He leaned back and watched as she slipped and slid all over the red, covering herself in it.

He grabbed her ankle. She screamed, it quickly turned into repressed noises.

Infusing his hand holding her with energy, he twisted. The limb snapped with a satisfying crunch.

She screamed.

He didn't stop. He broke bone after bone after bone, starting at the extremities until there was nothing but her skull and ribs left whole. She was wailing and crying and begging. He once again settled himself on top of her. She couldn't move. He leaned down and put his mouth to hers. She cried. He backed up and instead took her neck in his mouth. She tried to lean away. He pressed down hard, biting straight into her jugular vein.

Screams.

Red in his mouth.

He reached down to her stomach area. A pulse of ghost energy. Open abdomen. He pulled out her insides as he drank the red. She stopped screaming and begging for mercy and started hyperventilating.

The life drained from her eyes.

"Please, please, fight..."

The light went out and she was limp in his arms.

She looked like a fallen angel. He felt something jump in his chest.

He looked up to his master.

"Good job, now dispose of them," master waved his arm in an uncaring fashion and walked off. The ghost smirked at the praise.

The ghost stood, body still in his arms. With a shrug, he tossed it forward. It made a slapping sound as it landed.

It had hit another one. A boy in a yellow shirt with his head all but disconnected from his body.

He dragged them through the red to a corner. He did the same with the others.

A large man in orange with no limbs. A shapely woman with short hair, and no teeth. A girl that looked a bit like the woman, open eye-sockets missing eyeballs.

He had done it all.

It had hurt.

He should feel something.

It was an order from his master, it was good and fair, they were nothing in comparison to his master.

The red that covered everything continued to flow out of their bodies.

He threw an ectoblast onto the pile and it burst into flames

The ghost watched, red eyes blank and emotionless. When it was done, and nothing but ashes and flakes remained, he turned and went to find his master for his next orders.

If a single tear found its way down his cheek, it was the only one Danny ever shed for the pile of flesh and ash that had once been his world.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya... Well, that happened. Ya.  
> It's one in the morning, I was listening to some disturbing music, and I have a thing for that red staff, though who's controlling it is up to you. My next one-shot should be happier, it should.


End file.
